


Songs of the Heart

by NorthernWall



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Buccaneer ships it, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-04-01 04:32:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13990533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NorthernWall/pseuds/NorthernWall
Summary: A small mix-up leads to a beautiful friendship, and maybe something more.





	Songs of the Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Illidria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illidria/gifts).



> Illy, you amazing person, this little fic is for you. It's pretty cheesy and fluffy, but I hope you like it. <3
> 
> This fic is for the prompt: “Dude–were you seriously just singing Disney in the shower right now?”
> 
> Happy Reading!

It was a long trek up to Buccaneer’s grungy fifth-floor apartment, but Olivier was unperturbed as she hauled her heavy backpack and the big brown bag of Xingese takeout up the stairs. She didn’t bother knocking, instead pushed the door open and made herself at home at the little kitchenette counter. She could hear the shower running, so she pulled out her textbook and dug into her noodles without hesitation.

“Sha-la-la-la, my oh my! You gotta kiss the girl or you’re gonna miss the girl!” 

She snorted into her noodles and glanced in the direction of the bathroom.  _ Buccaneer  _ singing in the shower was a new one, but then again she was rarely at his apartment anymore. 

“Two worlds, one faaamilyyyy!” 

“The hell, Buc?” She muttered under her breath, as she flipped open the project she’d come to work on. 

“Beneath the shelter of the trees, only love can enter here!” 

It was a small apartment, that was true. She was still impressed by how clearly she could hear him. He wasn’t bad, and she was surprised to find herself humming along. She hadn’t known he had it in him.

He switched songs again, with all the unplanned grace of an impromptu shower solo. “Let it go! Let it go!”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’m never going back, the past is in the past. Let it go! Let it gooo!” He hummed a few bars, “Let the storm rage oooooon!”  She had no idea he could even hit that note. “The cold never bothered me anyway!” There was a dull thud that she took to be him throwing his arms out for dramatic effect and hitting the shower wall. Snickering, she laid out her flashcards.

“I can go the distance, I’ll be there someday, If I can be strong, I know every mile will be worth my while, I would go most anywhere to feel like I belong!”   

He sounded surprisingly soulful and she almost felt bad about the mockery she planned to rain down on him when he finally got out of the shower. “Good grief,” she muttered, checking her watch. “What’s he doing in there, anyway? Shaving his mohawk?” 

The old pipes groaned as the water shut off. She heard him puttering around in the bathroom for several minutes, before the door swung open and his footsteps made their way down the tiny hallway. 

“Finally! Dude–were you seriously just singing Disney in the shower right now?” 

“Um. Hello?” 

The questioning voice that answered her was definitely not Buccaneer. Her chair tipped over as she leapt to her feet, spinning around and finding herself face to face with a man she had never seen before. His white hair was hanging loose and damp around his shoulders and his red eyes were open wide in comedic surprise. He was tan and muscular, which was painfully apparent due to his shirtlessness. Mercifully, he was wearing sweatpants emblazoned with North City University’s logo. 

“Uh.” Her mouth was dry, and her heart was pounding. “You’re not Buccaneer!” Wordlessly, he shook his head. “I, er, this isn’t what it-” she shook her head, “You know what? I’m just going to go, okay?” She began frantically shoving her belongings into her backpack, knocking over the styrofoam container of food she’d brought for Buccaneer. 

“You were looking for Buccaneer, right? He’s next door.”

“Oh! Well, I’ve never been here during the day, before.” She threw her backpack on and gathered up the Xingese. “That’s not-! It isn’t how it sounds! Not that it matters to you, but yeah.” She threw open the door, and decided to make one more humiliating statement before she left, “you have a great voice! Bye!” She slammed the door behind her and raced down to Buccaneer’s actual apartment.

When she told him, Buccaneer laughed so hard he cried.

\---

Miles resisted the urge to go peer around the curtain. The whispers of it being a full house were already making the rounds, and he wanted to puke. 

“The art of-” whatever his co-star wanted to announce in his booming voice was cut off by a harsh whisper from the director. Miles glanced over at the sparkling man and had to suppress a slight smile at the suitably abashed expression on his face. Alex Louis Armstrong was certainly not lacking in the passion department and he was perfect for his role, but he could be difficult to work with for that very reason. 

Not that he abused it, but the theater department was extremely lenient with the young man, seeing as his family’s donations had almost single-handedly kept the theater not only surviving, but thriving. The tension backstage was especially high since said family had very publicly announced their intentions to come to the opening night performance. 

The orchestra started up, loud and clear, and Miles paced on a narrow strip of carpet that muffled his steps as he listened to the performance begin. He had to admit the cast was doing really well, he just had to hope he could control his stage fright enough to not the let them down.

He delivered his few lines from backstage without fear. Knowing the audience couldn’t see him made it easier, but he knew he’d have to step out on the stage soon enough, When his time came Miles adjusted his costume nervously and stepped out onto the stage.

“Sing once again with me, our strange duet…” as long as the audience remained blurs behind the bright lights of the stage, he was fine. 

“...behind the mask you wear-”

“-It’s me they fear!” He grimaced internally every time he sang that line, but then the Phantom was never meant to be a pleasant character.

The play passed in a blur of rushing on and off stage, and sweating backstage. Finally, the bows were over, and Miles was more than ready to head home; he still had homework, afterall. But, Alex threw an arm over his shoulder and dragged him towards his family.

“They wanted to meet you!” He boomed in his ear, “my parents were most impressed!”

Miles was trying to figure out how to (literally) wriggle out of the situation when he saw  _ her. _ The mystery girl who’d been plaguing him since she rushed out of his apartment that fateful day. He’d taken to leaving his apartment more often at night in hopes of seeing her, to no avail. He’d debated going and knocking on Buccaneer’s door, but that seemed too desperate, not to mention creepy. Besides, what if she actually was dating the other student? He didn’t think showing up to rehearsal looking like mincemeat would go over well. 

She looked up from examining the program with a bored expression and her eyes widened in surprise. Alex was making introductions, but Miles couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. She looked even more stunning than when he’d first seen her, but that might have been because she wasn’t desperately trying to get away. She was wearing a long gown in midnight blue, and her full lips were a deep red. 

“My sister, Olivier.” Alex concluded his introductions and beamed at Miles who snapped out of his stupor to smile and shake hands with the various family members.

“Pleased to meet you all.” He looked back to Olivier, who gave him a dark warning glare. He decided not to mention their earlier meeting, and instead made pleasant chitchat. Before long, the family was ready to leave, and Olivier waved them on, pinning Miles in place with a look.

“I just wanted to thank you for not mentioning our previous  _ encounter, _ and apologize for accidentally letting myself into your apartment.”

“That’s alright.” He hesitated, “if you wanted to let yourself into my apartment more often-” she shot him an unimpressed glower, and he caught himself, blushing furiously, “Oh no! That wasn’t what I meant!” She regarded him for a minute, still unimpressed. “You know what?  _ I’m  _ just going to leave now.” 

Face flaming, he hurried backstage, aware of her eyes following him.

\--- 

The knock on his door was entirely unexpected. Miles went to answer it, thinking it was probably one of his neighbors having drunkenly locked themselves out. He was already in a pair of plaid pajama pants and an old baseball-style shirt from East City High, but he wasn’t overly concerned about his neighbor’s opinions. He swung open the door and immediately regretted every decision he had ever made.  

Olivier Armstrong was standing in the doorway, a bag from the same Xingese takeout place on the corner in her arms. She looked frustrated.

“Hi?” 

“I was meant to be studying at Buccaneer’s, but he isn’t in. I have all this food, though, so--” was it his imagination or was she blushing? “--can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah. Sure.” He stepped back, hoping she wouldn’t notice the blush on his own face. “Make yourself at home.” 

She wasted no time, kicking off her shoes, padding into his tiny living area, and settling onto the sofa. Dressed in a casual pair of paint-stained red overalls and a blue and white striped shirt, her outfit completed by what appeared to be an improvised headband tied in a bow and holding all her hair but her long forelock away from her face, she looked far more adorable and far less intimidating than their previous meeting.

Once settled she glanced up at him still hovering awkwardly in the doorway and snickered, “Cute pajamas.”

He blushed, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I wasn’t really expecting anyone.”

She nodded, and turned to her takeout. “Do you like it pot noodles? I have beef and chicken.”

“Are you sure?”

“If Buccaneer’s going to stand me up, he doesn’t deserve beef pot noodles.”

“Ah, thanks.” Miles sat down on the opposite end of the sofa and took the noodles. “So, you were supposed to have a date?” His feigned casualness obviously wasn’t as successful as he hoped, because she gave him a cool look.

“No. We were supposed to study for our diffyq exam.”

Miles blinked. “Diffyq?”

“Differential equations,” she clarified, digging into her noodles a tad aggressively, “it’s for engineering.”

“You’re an engineer?” 

“Yup, but I’m minoring in art.” She slurped down a mouthful noisily and glanced at him. “You’re in theater with my brother?” 

“He’s a few years below me, but yes.” 

“To be clear: we have nothing in common.”

“I’ve noticed.” 

She glared at him suspiciously, and then sighed, slumping a little in her seat. “You were a pretty good Phantom.”

“Thank you?”

“But, I think I would have prefered you as Raul.” Miles choked on a chunk of beef, and she had to pound him on the back to dislodge it. They sat in silence, both red-faced. “I mean,” she clarified, “you would have been really good in a non-villain role. I had a hard time hating your version of the Phantom.”

“I’ll try to be more despicable in the future.” She gave him another look, and he smiled disarmingly. She rolled her eyes. 

“So,” she said a few minutes later when the silence stretched long enough to become awkward, “Disney?”

He blushed even more and she couldn’t help thinking he was cute. “I guess I can’t deny it.”

“Which one’s your favorite?”

“That’s too hard, you can’t have just one favorite!”

“Sure you can.”

“What’s yours, then?”

“Mulan.”

“How come?”

“She was brave and took a decisive course of action, to look out for her family. She had to learn a lot and grow up pretty fast, but she was clever and resourceful.” Miles nodded thoughtfully and she grinned, “plus, Mushu.”

He laughed, “always a bonus, I suppose.” 

“What was that one you were singing the other day, something about ‘finding where you belong’?” 

“Have you never seen Hercules?” 

“No, I don’t think so.”

“What?! We have to watch it!”

“Don’t tell me you happen to have it lying around.”

“It’s on Netflix.” He grinned at her, “you’re going to love it. The girl is really sassy and tough.” He refrained from adding, “like you.” 

She glanced at him, a bit doubtfully, “Can I work on my homework while we watch?”    

“Sure!” He set up the movie and grabbed some of his own homework. As time went on, he found himself watching neither his homework or the movie, instead watching the way Olivier’s face scrunched up when she was concentrating, and the way she couldn’t keep back smiles and little amused snorts when she did watch the movie. 

“What is wrong with her waist?!” 

“Huh?” 

“It’s half the size of her head!”

“I guess you’re right, I hadn’t really noticed.” 

She snorted, “of course you didn’t.”

He frowned at her, “what’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Guys never do notice this kind of thing. And then you look at women like me and wonder why we’re so much thicker.”

“You’re not thick-” Miles trailed off at her raised eyebrows.

“I am, but that’s not the point. I’m a healthy, attractive, size. She-” she pointed at the screen, “is not.” 

“I guess you’re right,” he muttered, trying not to stare at her. Now that she’d mentioned it, his brain was screaming at him that she was definitely attractive. 

She glanced at him, “by the way, Miles, you have food on your face.” He flushed, swiping at the offending spot. She snickered, and reached over to wipe it off herself. “Are you alright? You’ve gone all red.” 

“I’m fine, thanks,” he huffed slightly, but her hand stilled on his face.

“Did you know you’re pretty cute?” 

“Uh-” he sputtered, “I-thank, thank you?” 

“No problem.” She gave him a look he could only categorize as cute and turned back to her schoolwork. He stared stupidly at her, wondering what she was possibly thinking. “Oh, is it over?” 

“Wha-? Oh! Oh, the movie. Yeah. I could put another one on if you like. Do you like Pocahontas?”

“Sure, why not? These equations aren’t going to solve themselves.” She bowed over her work, face scrunching in thought. He switched the movie over and tried to watch it instead of her.

“Can you see that alright?” 

“What?” Her head snapped up and she glared at him. “Who told you that?” 

“Your face is six inches away and you’re frowning.”

She sighed, “I left my glasses in my dorm, I guess I didn’t think I’d need them.” She closed her book with another sigh. “I suppose I should be going.”

“Don’t you want to see what happens to John Smith?” 

Her lips twitched, “oh, alright.” 

Miles couldn’t help singing along when “Colors of the Wind” came on, and Olivier joined in, though with admittedly less skill. Encouraged, Miles continued singing along,  even as Olivier grew progressively quieter.

When the credits began, he turned to ask her what she thought, and found her curled against the arm of the sofa, her eyes closed and mouth hanging open. She looked peaceful, and when he checked the time it was after one in the morning, and he didn’t have the heart to wake her. Instead, he draped a spare blanket over her, switched off the lights and retired to his room.

She didn’t look any less beautiful in the morning light, though she was nearly as frazzled as when they had first met.

“I am so sorry, Miles! I swear I don’t normally-”

“It’s fine.” He smiled at her as she frantically tried unrumple her appearance. “You looked like you needed it.”

“I guess I did.” 

“Would you like some breakfast?”

“I couldn’t impose-”

He put on his most charming smile, “I have pancakes.” 

She hesitated, biting her lip, “with syrup?”

He nodded. “Maple. The real kind.” 

“Oh, alright. If you insist.” 

They were just digging into the fresh pancakes when there was a knock on the door. Miles opened it to reveal Buccaneer.

“Hey, Miles, did-” his eyes moved past him to Olivier whose glare seemed much less frightening when her mouth was full of pancake. “Well! That worked out way better than I thought.”

“Wait,” Olivier swallowed her pancakes and got to her feet, “you stood me up on purpose?” 

“Of course I did, Miles here has been mooning over you for weeks. I had to do something.” He beamed proudly at them. “Ooh, are those pancakes?”

“Buccaneer, you have ten seconds or you’ll be  _ wearing  _ the pancakes.” 

“Oh, come on! Is that any way to treat the man who got you a boyfriend?”

“You-” Olivier paused, looking thoughtfully at Miles, “ _ would  _ you like to go out?” 

“I’d love to!” He couldn’t keep the smile off his face. 

“See?!” 

Buccaneer couldn’t really say he didn’t see the pancake coming, the door slamming as soon as the pancake slapped him in the face. “You kids can thank me later!” 

Still beaming he caught the pancake, and took a bite. He made halfway back to his apartment before he realized something and made his way back to Miles’. Said man’s face was incredulous as he reopened the door.

“Hey, do you have any syrup?”     

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! As always, I love to hear your thoughts!


End file.
